


You Are Never Alone

by RedGold



Series: For SSGarcy [3]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Flynn deserved better, Flynn needs a hug, Lorena and Iris deserve to live too, Overwriting, Prompt Fic, just this once rose everybody lives, the ships are a metaphor, the third story in a trilogy (no)one person asked for, the world doesn't deserve Rufus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedGold/pseuds/RedGold
Summary: After defeating Rittenhouse, Flynn has discovered a way to save his wife and daughter while also protecting the timeline.But what is it going to cost him to save his family... and is he willing to pay the price? Of course he is.





	You Are Never Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatBoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatBoat/gifts).



> This is the third short story in a trilogy that all started with a Twitter prompt by SSGarcy. You will want to read the first two or else this one won't make any sense, there is a lot of call-backs.

**You Are Never Alone**

“Flynn,” he hears someone shout his name, because of course he does.

He was on the fourth floor of a parking structure, meant to meet a contact regarding some documents he had run across. Pain is spreading across his chest, but he’s had worst, at least he thinks he has. Everything is a blur as he returns fire on the men attacking him. 

Should have bloody known it was going to be an ambush. 

Ducking behind a car, he keeps firing, there is only three men left out of the dozen or so, he’s pretty sure. They’re shooting at him, he’s low on ammo, and he’s bleeding from a wound in his abdomen. This might just be it for him, he knew this day had to come sometime. But he wouldn’t give in that easily. He had too much to live for. 

It was only a few weeks before Christmas… presents already under the tree for his little girl. 

More shots ring out, from a different caliber gun, and from a whole other direction. The last of the hired goons fall to the ground. Not that he’s complaining, but what the hell? Who even knew he was there other than the men who set him up? 

Flynn feels the person approach before he even hears their steps. He raises his gun and points it straight at woman who skids to a halt, hands held out to show she’s not carrying a weapon. What she does have is a medical kit slung across her shoulder. 

“I’m a doctor,” she says quickly. “You’ve been shot.” 

Well, true, he had been shot, and someone just did help him. He makes a quick character judgement, noting her body language and eyes. She seems genuine enough, so he takes the risk. It’s not like she could do much worst to him, bleeding out as he was. 

He lowers his gun and she’s right there, next to him, opening her kit and pulling on a pair of gloves. Cutting part of his shirt away, she reveals the wound that is semi-gushing blood. 

“Didn’t hit anything major,” she says to herself. “But a lot of blood loss here.” 

Digging into her kit, she pulls out a cool bag, and from that, a packet of blood. She sets it on the lid of the kit as she quickly puts together a transfusion line. He assumed it was universal donor blood but then sees the label. 

“How do you know my blood type?” he asks, nearly jerking his arm away as she preps the butterfly needle. 

“It’s in your file,” she replies and grabs his arm, holds him steady as she deftly inserts the needle. She tapes the needle down and then places the blood packet in his other hand. “Hold this up.” 

Flynn does as she says, placing the packet on his opposite shoulder and just making sure it doesn’t fall off. She goes back to the wound and starts to disinfect. Clearing the blood away. He watches her work, quick and efficient. He’s seen her type before. She was clearly some kind of military combat medic. 

He studies her face and wonders if they had met before, when he was overseas. She has a distinctive Balkan appearance, her curly brown hair done back in a braid commonly seen among women in the military. He doesn’t recognize her at all. 

“This will get you to Stiv’s,” she says as she uses a medical staple and liquid suture to close up the wound. “Try not to move around too much or you’ll break this open. You’re going to need to get the bullet removed and real stitches. I’m sure Stiv can find a way to take care of that.” 

“How do you know about Stiv?” he asks her. 

“I know a lot of things.” There's a touch of sadness in her voice that wasn’t there a moment ago. Something cracking in her doctor façade. 

She’s starting to put her medical supplies away. She’ll be gone at any moment. He grabs her wrist, not so tightly that she couldn’t jerk out of his grasp, but enough to make it clear he wants answers. “These men came after me because I found out about Rittenhouse. And you just happen to be here to save my life.” 

The woman doesn’t answer, doesn’t move, doesn’t even look at him. 

“He did it, didn’t he?” Something in Flynn’s gut twists, telling him to believe in the impossible. “Mason built a time machine.” 

“Yes.” The word is barely audible. 

“You’re from the future?” 

“… yes.” 

“So I… I died today?” Flynn glances down at his wound as he lets go of her. “You came back here, to save me? Why?” 

“Not you,” she glances up sharply. “We weren’t sure how this would go down.” 

Flynn tilts his head, taking in her words. If he understood her right, then this ambush didn’t happen before? “Tell me what is going on.” 

The woman faulters for a moment, then takes a breath and swallows hard. “In the future I come from, these men, they get different orders. They attack, tonight, in your home, while you and your family are asleep. You barely make it out alive… your wife and daughter… they don’t…” 

Cold and unending dread buries itself into his chest. He can read it on the woman, she's not lying, not one bit. Lorena and Iris were murdered. They died because he found out about Rittenhouse. He got them killed. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” the woman tells him, a familiarity in her voice. She knew him. “The only people to blame for what happened is Rittenhouse. They are horrible people, who have done so much evil. And you are going to stop them.” 

“I am?” He searches her face and only finds truth. 

“Yes.” She smiles but there are tears in her eyes. “You and others are going to take them down, but there is a long, long road ahead of you. A lot of pain and suffering. And… and I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to let your family go.” 

“What?” Flynn rebels at the very thought. 

“Rittenhouse came after you once, and they’ll keep trying until they get you,” she’s very emphatic on this point, as if she speaks from far too much experience. “You can’t let them think they can use your family against you. They murdered them once, they’ll do it again.” 

It’s a cold logic that he doesn’t want to accept. He wants to believe she’s lying to him, that this is a trick, but every gut instinct he has, every trick he’s learned, tells him otherwise. 

“They really were dead?” he asks barely above a whisper. 

“Yes,” she’s just as quiet. “And you had to live with that pain for six years. But you never gave up hope, you never gave up on them, and we found a way.” 

“Six years...” it’s unfathomable to think about. 

“But we need to protect the rest of the timeline, otherwise... Rittenhouse could end up winning.” Something in her voice tells him that this is a fate worse than losing his family. “Go to Stiv’s, get patched up, and he’ll get you out of the country, to São Paulo.” 

It’s almost too much to process at once, but he’s a trained operative, he knows where to focus. “São Paulo?” 

“Yes, someone will meet you there.” She glances up, through the windows of the car they’re hidden behind, then back to him. “You’ll get instructions, and... and I’m not going to lie. Things are going to suck. You’re going to be branded a terrorist. You’ll be betrayed. Arrested. Be broken.” 

“Sounds like fun,” he says in a manner that suggests not. 

“I’m sorry. You may never see your family again, but they’ll be aliv—” She makes a sharp noise at the back of her throat and grasps at her head. 

He reaches for her. “You okay?” 

“I have to go.” She starts to shuffle that last of her stuff into the kit, not caring to make things neat. “Go to São Paulo, okay? And whatever you do, never give up hope.” She touches his cheek. “And you are never alone.” 

Her last words are spoken with so much emotion he doesn’t even know where to start unpacking what it all means. But she’s up and she’s gone, leaving him sitting against the car, the one he’s about to hotwire and drive to Stiv’s. And from there, apparently to Brasil. 

Should he call his family, one last time, before he abandon’s them to protect them? Or would that simply hurt worse... 

_**While I can’t be sure what the timeline would be like with our girls being gone, I can at least tell you what it was with them still alive. I'm sure it was different, but hopefully the important things remained the same. But I know you, you’re willing to pay whatever price there is to give Lorena and Iris back their lives.** _

_**I had hoped this woman, who never gave her name, would have met me in São Paulo so I could ask her more questions. Instead... it was Lucy. She couldn’t tell me much more, about the future, but she gave me the journal. She promised that in the end, it would be worth it. I would be a hero and I would find a way save my family.** _

_**I got the feeling maybe she didn’t realize I apparently already had.** _

_**But I followed the journal, I read between the lines. Saw how lost and destroyed I had become over the deaths of my wife and daughter. It didn’t surprise me one bit. Letting them go, cutting them out of my life, that was bad enough and nearly drove me mad.**_

"You won’t see your family again,” Anthony told him as they sat in an abandoned warehouse, plotting out how to steal the Mothership. 

“What?” Flynn said sharply. 

“Well,” he backtracked, “it depends on if you were there, last year, when the medic came back and changed the timeline.” 

“How does that make a difference?” 

“Every time we go back, we make changes, large and small,” Anthony explained, letting out a deep breath. “When we come back, we remember the original timeline. So, if you were there, then at some point, five years from now, you’re going to come back from that trip, overwrite yourself, and only have the memories of the previous timeline where they died.” 

“I didn’t realize...” 

“But,” he added quickly, “if you didn’t go, if you stayed behind, then you’ll only remember this timeline. You won’t remember them dying.” 

_**I know myself. You were there. No way would we risk dying when we changed things. You shot those men. And if the medic couldn’t save me, then at least you'd still be alive to try again. Maybe even take my place.** _

_**This is what did it, what pushed me over the edge. I was a walking dead man anyway. That’s how I looked at it. But if that was the price for saving our girls, then I was going to pay it.**_

“You have a wife, a daughter,” Lucy said, searching his eyes, trying to understand him. “You just abandoned them so you could steal a time machine and try to burn down history?” 

“I’m not trying to destroy history. I’m trying to save it!” Flynn tells her, stopping himself from pointing out he’s trying to save his family too. He’s trying to keep them safe, so they never die in this timeline. But he doesn’t know how much he can trust this Lucy. She warned him, in São Paulo, that she wouldn’t know him, that she’d be afraid. 

And that is how the dance goes, Flynn tries to stop Rittenhouse, the Team tries to stop him. He warns them about the group, but they don’t listen at first. So much would have been solved if they had, but he supposed that was part of the deal. 

Eventually, they agree to help him track down Benedict Arnold. He can get them to Rittenhouse leadership... an actual man, David Rittenhouse. He wasn’t mentioned in the journal and Flynn doesn’t understand why. It must also be part of the bigger scheme to end Rittenhouse for good. Does it really matter if he knows the mechanics of all of this? 

It’s not going to matter in four years when his other self takes his place. 

"If we stop Rittenhouse today,” Lucy says as they stand at the horses, waiting for the rest of the team to return from their pitstop in the woods, “are you just going to go home, like nothing happened?” 

The words pierce through his heart, the truth ripping him apart. He looks down at Lucy and she trusts him now, well, moreso than before. He feels like the future is starting to come to pass. “How can I go back to them? After what I’ve done? After what I’ve become to keep them safe?” 

She tilts her head, noting the emotion he couldn’t keep out of his voice. “Keep them safe?” 

He feels like he knows her now, that he can trust her. But the others return and the moment has passed. They just need to stop Rittenhouse, and then he’ll have time to explain everything. 

But it doesn’t end. John Rittenhouse runs from the room during the fight, his father dead. Flynn chases and corners the young man who cries and trembles. Flynn takes aim, but he can’t... he can’t do it. He looks at John and all he sees is Iris, a child... 

He turns away and he’s at war with himself. Is this what the medic said about being broken? This is how he destroys Rittenhouse but destroys himself along with it? Does he need to do this to make sure his family is safe? 

He turns back and Lucy is there, shielding the boy. She pleads with him. Tells him he can be a father again. But he can’t... he can’t be anything again. His life is going to be overwritten and all he’ll remember is seeing the dead eyes of his wife and child. 

His soul is already damned. 

_**I think I would have done it, if the boy hadn’t gotten away. I would have hated myself. I would have never gone back to my family. That moment was a Rubicon, a line I was kept from crossing. And from what happens next, I’m sure I wasn't supposed to.**_

“I trusted you,” he shouts as the Homeland agents haul him off. 

And he had trusted her. He didn’t blow up the Rittenhouse summit because he believed in her. And as they drove back to the Mothership, he told Lucy everything, about how his wife and daughter were murdered before. 

Flynn thought maybe this was it. This is how Rittenhouse ended, not with a bang but with bureaucratic paperwork. But he couldn’t be certain anymore, of anything. So much in the journal hadn’t come to pass yet. But the medic did say he’d be arrested, be betrayed, be broken. 

He really should have seen it coming that the meeting was a set up. 

Later, as he had time to think things through, he realized Lucy was set up as well. She was a civilian, was probably GPS bugged and didn’t even know it. He found he still trusted her, that she would keep his secret, not put his family in danger. 

He also found he was developing feelings for her. She was small, smart, and commanding… completely his type. He felt a connection to her, reading the journal, her thoughts and hopes and dreams. The journal itself said they had been ill-fated lovers, but that was in a timeline his wife was dead and he didn’t know if he would save her. 

Lorena was alive but he could never go back to her… he had to let her go, to move on. He was starting to… and he hated himself for it. How could he dare find happiness in another woman’s arms while his wife and daughter were still out there, possibly mourning him, believing he was dead after all these years? 

But as Lucy was attacked, nearly killed by John Hathorne, he couldn’t fight it any more. He’d fallen in love with her. And when she started to get a fever and passed out in the middle of the hallway, his heart clenched as he picked her up and put her on the bed. He wanted to hover, to protect her, but this was beyond his capabilities. 

Denise and Jiya pushed him out of the way, relegated him to the hallway with the others. Rufus, Wyatt, and the other newcomer, Jess. Twenty minutes later, a doctor was let into the bunker and escorted directly to Lucy’s room. 

She looked straight at him and barely acknowledged his existence. 

_**I was starting to worry that maybe I did something wrong, completely screwed up everything. In saving my family, did I change things so much that Rittenhouse won? But there she was. The military combat medic who patched me up after the ambush. Now I had a name, Mira Botev.** _

_**Mira had already helped save my family, saved me, but this was clearly when she joined the story. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t in the journal. Or Emma for that matter. Some kind of shell game was going on, truths being purposefully kept away in order to manipulate events.** _

_**Then Jessica happened, kidnapping Jiya who we lost to time. Getting her back had been nearly catastrophic. We almost lost Rufus, almost lost myself, taking far too much damage from Emma’s attack. But we got home, we got patched up, and we got moved.** _

_**The suggestion was made, since we had the extra space, for Mira to move in rather than her treat it like a nine to five. There was a vote, I agreed it was a good idea. I already trusted her with my life.** _

The team had gone to June of 1980. Rittenhouse was trying to get their hooks into CNN which was just about to launch. Yet another attempt by them to control the news, the flow of information. Hopefully the Team would be able to stop Rittenhouse without him. 

Just like when the team went back to save Agent Christopher, Flynn had to stay behind because he was a young boy in 1980. 

“You do realize how tightly wound you are, right?” Mira asked him as he made himself the sixth cup of coffee? Maybe just fifth? He lost count. 

“I’m fine,” he says easily and brushes past. 

“No, you’re not,” Mira replied in a very strong and commanding voice. The kind of tone built over years of getting stubborn military men to sit down, shut up, and let her work. 

Flynn stared at her, lorded over her with the height difference, but she didn’t back down, didn’t flinch. Instead, she reached out and tugged the coffee cup from his hand. He doesn’t fight the action, he’s a sucker for women who take charge. 

“Sit down,” she orders him in her doctor voice. 

He sits at the table as she goes and pours the coffee out. She grabs a glass and fills it up with water. She places it before him as she sits across the table. 

“I can prescribe you something if you’re having trouble sleeping?” she tells him. 

“It’s… it’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” Mira clearly isn’t going to let this slide. 

He understands now, why Mira was there in 2014. Why she helped him save his family. From the moment she arrived in the new bunker, she had treated him… like everyone else. She didn’t look down on him for his past. Didn’t judge him. He might have thought himself special, but she was a doctor, it’s what they do. 

That didn’t make her any less of a friend to him. She’d give him a pat on the shoulder, a light hug on occasion. Made him feel like he was still human in a way that even Lucy couldn’t do. But Lucy was fighting her emotions, afraid to get too close to him for what she might do. 

Flynn noted that Christopher was outside on the phone, and Mason was in his room. 

“Can I talk to you about something, in private?” he asks her. 

“Like... doctor-patient confidentiality personal?” Mira sits up, is a bit more attentive. “Of course.” 

He licks his lips and considers what he’s about to reveal. “You know I have a wife and a daughter that I left behind to fight Rittenhouse?” 

“Yes,” she says as a matter of fact, no judgement. 

“I did that, I left them, to save them.” If he says that enough times… will it stop hurting? “When I was ambushed, by Rittenhouse, my future self was there.” He debates telling her about her inclusion, if that was a burden he wanted to place on her. “I learned that… in a previous timeline… they were murdered, by Rittenhouse.” 

“Murdered?” Mira draws in a breath, losing that measure of detachment. “How old is your daughter?” 

“She would have been five at the time.” His throat fills with bile just thinking about it. 

“I… I’m sorry…” she trails off, wrapping her head around what he just said. 

“That’s why I originally went after Rittenhouse. Why I stole the Mothership. I wanted to find a way to save them.” 

“And you did.” Mira gives one of those sad little laughs of yay, success, but holy hell at what cost. 

“Yes, but I still had to go after Rittenhouse, steal the Mothership, do all of… this…” He gestures around the bunker. “I couldn’t make them a target, I had to let them go.” 

His hands are trembling as he places them back on the table. Mira reached forward and gave them a gentle squeeze. “It hurts, but you did the right thing. You kept them safe.” 

“And I’ll never see them again,” the words spill out of him now. “My future self will return from that trip, two years from now, and I’ll be overwritten. He’ll remember their deaths. And I’ll never hold them again.” 

She squeezes his hands tighter as he holds hers in a vice grip, needing something to anchor him. She says nothing, lets him ride out the wave. He hasn’t even told this to Lucy. That he was there in 2014 and he’ll be overwritten in 2020. But clearly he needed to tell someone. 

Mira would be there with him, in 2014, and maybe she won’t be the only one… “And to make matters worse… I’ve fallen in love with Lucy.” 

Again, she doesn’t comment, doesn’t move, doesn’t judge. She just listens. Usually it’s him doing the listening as Lucy goes off about Rittenhouse, her role in it, and how Wyatt broke her heart. 

“The journal, it, ah, it said we would become lovers.” It was the first time he said it out loud. “It also said it would end spectacularly badly because Lucy loves Wyatt, will always love Wyatt, and there is nothing I can do about it.” 

He goes quiet, this time for too long, and Mira says, “There’s more to this, isn’t there?” 

“Yeah.” Flynn took a deep breath. “I learned the hard way that the journal can’t always be trusted, but I do feel this connection, this tug, between Lucy and I. I’ve felt it ever since... well... ever since she handed the journal to me, in São Paulo.” 

Mira thought this over. “You’re questioning if the foretold crash and burn is just another mistake in the journal?” 

“I love her,” he nearly whispered. “Am I just kidding myself? I’m not even going to be the same person in a few years.” 

“Unfortunately, only time will tell,” her voice was apologetic. “But... and excuse me if I overstep here, but are you sure you’re in love with our Lucy?” 

That caused Flynn to do a mental double take, his eyes snapping towards Mira. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Well,” she got that tone of voice, the one doctors use when they are trying to explain bad news to a patient without either sounding hopeful or cynical. “From what I’ve been told, you had the journal for at least a year before you stole the Mothership. You read through it, basically memorized it, and what the journal told you affected your actions and how you felt about Lucy, did it not?” 

Flynn frowned. “That was why she gave me the journal. To change things.” 

“But you already did, change things.” Mira stopped for a second, gathered her thoughts. “You saved your family this time around. Which means the Lucy who wrote it, the Lucy you apparently had a relationship with, comes from… at least two timelines ago. That Lucy is different from the Lucy here in the bunker. I’m not saying this as a positive or negative. I’m just saying that you read the biography of someone else’s life, not an instruction manual.” 

It was like Flynn was hit with a bucket of cold water. “I... never really thought about it that way.” 

“Tunnel vision,” she said without judgement. “You were focused on a very specific set of data points. It happens to the best of us, even doctors.” 

Flynn considers her words, all the complications therein. Was he in love with a ghost, a phantom of an idea, and he transferred that onto the Lucy of this timeline? 

“And there is your wife to think about,” Mira says softly. 

He doesn’t want to look at Mira, to see her judging him. “I’m never going to see her again, me, or my future self.” 

For reasons he can’t understand, she doesn’t judge him, but she does frown a little. “Are you sure, about your future self?” 

“I’ve done… horrible things,” he admits, darkness sinking in his stomach. “I imagine I did worse in a timeline they were dead. I can’t take that back to them. I need to let them go, and they need to move on without me.” 

“Then you need to let them go and allow yourself to move on,” she tells him, giving his hands a squeeze. “Trust me, I know it hurts, but you can’t keep holding on to that pain.” 

Flynn tilts his head, catching something in her voice. “You’ve lost someone.” 

Mira blinked, realizing her mistake, her overshare. Then, accepting her fate, she pulls away from him to reach up and tug on her shirt collar, quickly revealing a set of dog tags with two rings settled between them. “I don’t often wear my ring because I don’t want it to get in the way when doing surgery. I did that when he was alive too, he understood.” 

“I’m sorry,” Flynn replied softly, his thumb touching where his own wedding band should be. It was safe, hidden, but he couldn’t let people think Lorena could be used against him. He couldn’t let her, or Iris, become a target. 

“So am I,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the dog tags. “I never take this off. I carry him in my heart, but this is something that I can _feel_.” 

“Yeah.” The more he learned of Mira, the more what happened in 2014 made sense. “What kind of military man was he?” 

“Marine,” Mira answered with a hard swallow. “I’m not even sure how he died. Black Ops and all that. I like to think he did his part in saving the world.” 

Flynn judged her for a second. “Is that why you wanted to work with us? You want to try to save him?” 

“I’d be a damn liar if I said it didn’t cross my mind,” she admitted with a shrug, still gripping the dog tags. “Brian knew what he was getting into. _I_ knew what he was getting into. I can accept what happened.” She paused for a moment, looking into his eyes. “Your family are innocents. To be murdered like that, it’s unacceptable. I’m glad you found a way to save them.” 

“Thank you.” He wants to add _for helping me save them_ but he is still unsure of placing that burden on her. 

Quiet passed through the room before Mira finally tucked her husband’s dog tags back under her shirt. 

“Does it get any easier?” Flynn asked her. “Letting go of him?” 

“Yeah, it does,” she answered sadly. “And you hate yourself a little bit because of it. And then you don’t, because you know misery is the last thing they’d want for you.” 

_**I can’t begin to explain how glad I was that Mira entered our lives. But I have a feeling you know what I’m talking about. I found I could talk to her about anything, except pizza toppings.**_

_**But mostly, she helped me to understand my feelings. To have the strength to allow myself to let go of my past and embrace my future. One without Lorena. One without Lucy.** _

_**I know what the journal said about the**_ **Titanic _, but as Lucy and I were on the rescue ship, we kissed, once, and that was it. I knew this was what I wanted, but not what I needed. Lucy loved Wyatt, she probably does in your timeline too. And I was reaching for an ideal, not a reality. I hope you learned that lesson too, and not the hard way._**

_**I wasn’t in love with Mira, but I needed her. I needed that friend. And I was beginning to understand why she said ‘you are never alone.’**_

Another late-night poker session, this time with real liquor instead of beer. They just had a major victory over Rittenhouse and were starting to feel good about winning. Of course, Flynn knew they would win… he just didn’t know when or how. But it should be sooner rather than later seeing as he was getting close to the six-year mark... 

Somehow the game came down to Rufus and Mason, the two math nerds probably counting cards but Flynn didn’t mind. It was hilarious to watch them go back and forth. They were both trying to out-psych either other and it was adorable that they thought they were succeeding. 

Several bottles of scotch and vodka gone, it was time for everyone to go sleep it off. Flynn faired the best, a credit to his European heritage. The only person who could outdrink him was Lorena, and that record still seemed to stand. 

Jiya and Mason were mumbling scientific gibberish as if they were speaking normal English. They might have solved cold fusion, but they’d not remember in the morning. Lucy was loudly going on about Robert Todd Lincoln, insisting she _was_ using her inside voice. Wyatt was glassy eyed, but managed to get Lucy back to their room without running into any walls. Rufus was flat passed out on his poker winnings. 

“Come on, buddy.” Flynn grabbed Rufus and stood him up, this barely jogging the man awake. 

It took about ten minutes, but Flynn, with some help from Jiya, was able to get Rufus back to his room, dumping him on the bed. He got his shoes off for him, then left Rufus to snooze, Jiya crashing down beside him. They were sickly cute, but he was happy for them. If anyone in the team deserved happiness like that, it was those two. 

Walking back to his room, he passed Mira’s. The door was ajar and he could hear crying. He debated with himself for a moment, if he should intrude, but only a month or so before he had held Mira as she cried over shooting the man who attack him and Tesla. He thought she had moved past it, got it out of her system, but he would be remiss not to check up on her. 

“Mira?” he said softly as he lightly knocked and let the door open farther. 

She was sitting on the floor, in front of her bed. Her shirt was off, balled in one hand which she clutched to her chest, her modesty protected by a shiny gray bra. Her other hand was wrapped around her husband’s dog tags, knuckles near white. 

Flynn realized he caught her in an extremely vulnerable moment, in more ways than one. He started to back away, considering waking up Jiya or calling Christopher. 

“Don’t go,” Mira said between sobs and he stopped, reflectively looking back at her. “I… stay… please?” 

Well, he did say his shirt was free to catch blubber anytime. 

“Okay,” he says, trying to figure out how to make this not awkward. He notices her bathrobe laying over a chair. He grabs it after he closes the door. 

He squats down next to Mira, holding the robe as he gently goads her into sitting forward enough for him to slip it around her shoulders. She won’t let go of the dog tags, so he just wraps the robe enough to cover her. She doesn’t seem to even notice the gesture, her eyes unfocused, glazed, in the past. 

Mira leans into him, not a lot, just enough to feel that sense of closeness, of someone there with her. They sit there in silence for a while, Flynn thinking back to when he sat with Lucy after the whole Kennedy fiasco. Lucy had leaned away from him, accepted his quiet companionship but that was it. The street always seemed to flow mostly one way with her. But with Mira… 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers against his shoulder. “Next month would have been our ten-year anniversary. It just… hit me…” 

And with the alcohol in her system, she had limited emotional defenses to battle those feelings. He rubs her shoulder, letting her know it’s okay. 

“I miss him,” she continues. “I miss him, but at the same time… I don’t. I’ve moved on. I know he’d want that for me. But… I… knowing it and living it…” 

Mira looks up at him and he feels like she has more to say, but she shakes her head and lays it against his shoulder. It’s his turn to anchor her as she trembles and gets out all these emotions. When she finally falls asleep, he picks her up and places her on the bed. Slipping out, he walks to his room before anyone could get the wrong idea. 

_**I can’t tell you when my heart made a permanent change of address. But I can tell you I needed Mira in my life. I needed that friend.** _

_**I also need to stay off of sinking ships.**_

“Well, good news,” Wyatt said as they stood on the docks, watching the _Indianapolis_ leave for Tinian. “We can catch a cargo transport back to San Francisco, but it leaves tomorrow.” 

“So we’re stuck here overnight?” Rufus asked. “I suppose we could be worse places than Hawaii.” 

“Let’s find a hotel, then maybe get some real food,” Wyatt suggested and they started to leave. 

Mira was still watching the ship as it got smaller and smaller. Flynn reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “It hurts, but we’re doing the right thing. Those men are soldiers, they knew the risks.” 

“Like Brian?” she asks, her words so very hollow and damaged. He’s not sure how to reply, but she turns to him and says, “Tomorrow is… would have been our wedding anniversary, in the present, I mean.” 

Suddenly, everything makes sense. Mira’s behavior on the ship, being so angry at time travel, at Rittenhouse, and at their helplessness. There wasn’t much he could say to this revelation. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m the one who should apologize.” She clears her throat. “I was out of line. I let my emotions get out of check and I should know better. I should _be_ better. But every time I jump, I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I’m just not built for time travel.” 

“It’s okay,” he tells her, having already figured this one out. “When we get back, we’ll talk to Agent Christopher. You won’t have to go on any more missions.” 

Mira looks at him sadly. “That only solves half the problem.” 

He frowns. “Half?” 

She clears her throat and straightens herself out. “You don’t need me. You need a medic who can actually travel through time. I’m more of a liability than anything else. It was… good to be part of the team. I know you’ll stop Rittenhouse.” 

“Don’t go,” he says before he even has a chance to think the words. 

Mira startles at this. 

“I never told you, but…” he’s kept this secret for far too long, “you were there, in 2014.” 

“What…?” Her face goes completely blank. 

“The scar I have, the one you noticed when checking for leeches?” He points to the general area under his naval uniform. “I told you Stiv stitched me up, but that was after you stopped the bleeding and gave me a blood transfusion. You came back with my future self. You were prepared for the possibility of me being hurt.” 

“I… did…” She looks away, her face a cascade of emotions. 

“You stay with the team, you help save my family, you… you save me.” 

Mira’s eyes snap to his. “That’s why you want me to stay? Because I helped you save them?” 

Flynn stalls, his emotions playing havoc inside him as he realizes that no, it’s more than that. But what exactly? When had he fallen for Mira, thinking of her than more than a friend? 

“It doesn’t matter.” Mira shook her head and stepped back. “I don’t have to stay, I don’t have to go back, because I already have.” Then she stops and stares up at him in almost horror. “I’m going to be overwritten, aren’t I?” 

“…yes.” 

“And you just kept this from me?!” she shouted, the loudest he’s ever heard her raise her voice. 

“Guys?” Rufus says, the two men having turned back when they realize they weren’t following them. 

“I didn’t want to burden you—” Flynn starts to say. 

“So you were just going to let me be overwritten one day,” she interrupts angrily. “Let me lose all my memories?” 

“Not all, not the ones before you joined the team,” he assures her, realizing he’s completely lost control of the situation and has no one to blame but himself. “Some memories will be different, like right now, but overall it shouldn’t differ that much. My family being dead doesn’t affect you.” 

Mira stares at him, anger in her eyes, and he finds it breaking something inside of him. 

“What is going on?” Wyatt asks now that he has a moment to get a word in. 

“I don’t even know anymore,” Mira says and walks off. It’s clear she has no idea where she’s going. But anywhere ‘not here’ would be her preference. 

Flynn starts to move forward but Rufus puts his hand on his chest and stops him. “Yeah, dude, don’t go making things worse.” 

He wants to argue, but was there anything he could tell Mira, anything he could say, to make up for all of this? Nothing he could think of in the moment. Instead, he lets Rufus hold him back as Wyatt jogs after Mira. 

They talk for a moment, in the distance, Flynn unable to understand what they are saying. Wyatt was likely reminding her that they were in 1945, they needed to stick together, and tomorrow they would be back to the present. Then Mira could walk out of his life, and that thought tore at his heart. 

They found a place to eat, Mira insisting that Flynn tell her everything that happened in 2014. So Flynn did, told her how he got the tip about Rittenhouse. How he was ambushed. About how he was sure he heard her shout his name as he was shot. How he didn’t really see his future self, but he knows he was there. How Mira worked on him. 

Everything she said to him. 

Except the part about her touching his cheek and telling him he was not alone. 

“You kept all of this from us?” Wyatt asked, only a small amount of disbelief in his eyes. 

“Lucy knows some of it,” he admitted. “I was worried, okay? I didn’t want to mess things up. Let Rittenhouse win this time, or get my family killed,” the word _again_ was left unsaid. 

“Man,” Rufus shook his head, “you didn’t trust us?” 

“It wasn’t about trust. I just... couldn’t take the risk,” he says solemnly, then shrugs helplessly. He can’t really excuse his behavior all that much. 

“Some things make a lot more sense,” Wyatt said as he sat his beer down. “When we get back, you need to come clean to everyone about this.” 

“I know. I will.” 

They get rooms at a hotel, having only enough money for two. There were double beds, and as Rufus and Flynn were used to bunking together, Mira took the second bed in Wyatt’s room. 

“Hey.” Rufus got his attention as they were getting ready to turn in. “So, I never said anything before, but… are you aware you’re in love with Mira?” 

It was only his operative training that kept him from stalling out on that question. “Mira is my friend. I shouldn’t have done that to her.” 

“Also true, but not what I asked,” Rufus pointed out. And when Flynn didn’t continue, he said, “Look. Everyone sees it, the way you two are together, well, were together. You and Lucy, you had this dark intensity there that probably wasn’t healthy. But with Mira, you’re just… happy. It’s a good look on you.” 

Flynn doesn’t say anything as he folds his clothes. He screwed up, because of course he did. “Doesn’t matter. She said she was leaving when we get back.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing matters,” Flynn turned on him. “Nothing matters except stopping Rittenhouse and keeping my family safe.” 

Rufus held up his hands. “Okay, man. I get it.” 

The flight back to the mainland was a study in awkward silence. But they got there, got into the Lifeboat, and jumped home. As soon as they returned, everyone could tell something was wrong. Flynn explained to the whole team what happened in 2014. There was disappointment, but also understanding. 

If they could forgive Wyatt for what happened with Jessica, then they weren’t going to hold this against Flynn. 

Later, he sees Lucy and Jiya go into Mira’s room. He doesn’t stalk them, but he does notice that he doesn’t see them again until the next morning when Agent Christopher called everyone in for an announcement. He expects to hear about Mira leaving and when they will get a new medic. But instead she just says that Mira will no longer go on missions unless it’s absolutely vital that a medic goes. This is a personal request by Mira, one that they are going to respect. 

A few hours later, he knocks on the open med room door and walks in, keeping his distance. 

“Yes?” she asks neutrally when she sees it’s him. 

“I just wanted to ask… why you are staying?” 

She is quiet for a moment. “Because this where I belong.” 

There is no more to be said, so he, nods, turns, and walks away. 

_**I had to wonder if maybe Mira lied to me, in 2014. Told me that I was not alone so that I would do what needed to be done. Because I certainly felt alone. Lorena, Lucy, and Mira. I lost them all.** _

_**But I had the team, they stuck with me, they understood. So perhaps she didn’t lie, I just misunderstood. I am not alone because I have them.** _

_**I was still going to be overwritten, so what did it all matter?**_

“You don’t have to be,” Rufus said as they walked down a quiet city street in Beaumont, Texas, on January 9th, 1901. 

They were on their way to meet up with Antun Lučić. The man was a brilliant mechanical engineer who would change the face of oil drilling and excavation. His discovery of oil at Spindletop would turn the city of Beaumont from a small port town into a thriving metropolis. 

Rittenhouse, or more specifically, John D. Rockefeller, had passed up on the opportunity to support Antun in his drilling at Spindletop. Now that Rittenhouse had a time machine, well, this was one mistake they were trying to correct. If they could get their hands on the crude, and keep Antun’s engineering advancements to themselves, they could gain control over the oil and petroleum industries. 

The team was going to make sure that didn’t happen. 

“What are you talking about?” Flynn asked Rufus as they trudged along in the cold. 

“Overwritten,” he clarifies. “If you go back to 2014 like your future self did, then when you come back, you’ll be the one doing the overwriting. You will only remember this timeline, where your family didn’t die.” 

Flynn thinks about this for a moment, the thought having already occurred to him when he talked to Anthony. “Yeah, but, that means changing things again. Right? There is no way for me to exactly duplicate what my future self did. So it will cause a ripple effect, and there is no way to predict if the changes would be minor or catastrophic.” 

“True,” Rufus agreed sadly. “The best option, the safest option, is to let the Causal Loop close.” 

“And when it does,” he remembers something else Anthony told him, “the one to close it will always have the memories of the previous timeline.” 

“Yeah… oh, there,” Rufus says as he spots Antun talking to some of his drill men outside of a pub. 

Flynn checks around for Rittenhouse, then they quickly make their way over. 

“ _Good afternoon_ ,” Flynn says in his native language to the Croatian immigrant. “ _May we have a moment of your time?_ ” 

The mission was an unfettered success. They managed to take out the Rittenhouse agents and make sure Antun’s work would spread so that other engineers and drillers could put the techniques to use. This way no one company or group would retain a strangle-hold. 

When they get back, Flynn sees Mira in the kitchen. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but they haven’t talked, about anything, and it hurts him more than it has any right to. 

“Mira,” he says cautiously, “do you have a moment?” 

She thinks about this for a second, tapping her hand against a mug of tea. With an intake of breath, she turns around and faces him. He can see her do the thing, compartmentalize like she does in stressful situations. 

“What do you need?” she asks. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were aware, and I’m sorry, it only just occurred to me, but…” he goes on to tell her what he and Rufus talked about. Telling her that, if she wants to, they can go back, keep from being overwritten. 

“No,” she says him with a shake of her head. “As scary as it is to think about being overwritten, giving Rittenhouse another chance to win, that’s even worse.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks numbly, expecting a longer conversation on this. 

It seemed like Mira had already considered all her options. “I went back to 2014. I knew I’d overwrite myself. Clearly I didn’t think much would change. That, or it would be worth the risk.” 

“Thank you,” Flynn says quietly. “I… thank you.” 

“I am doing this for Lorena and Iris. They didn’t deserve to die. They didn’t sign up for any of this.” 

Mira walks away and Flynn wants to reach for her, but he knows he can’t. 

“Flynn,” he hears Agent Christopher behind him. “Got a second?” 

“Sure,” he sighs and turns around. 

Christopher hands him a folder. “I’ve been sitting on this for a few weeks. Wanted to make sure I did my due diligence in checking out the details first.” 

With a wary frown, he opens the folder and starts to flip through it. There are some reports, photos, and one obvious conclusion. “Lorena… she’s dating this man.” 

“It looks pretty serious,” Christopher tells him even though he can see it in the photos. “Checked him out thoroughly, made sure he isn’t Rittenhouse, or a creep. He’s the brother one of the men in her church group, someone she’s known since 2011. The brother was living in Singapore, work related stuff, but moved back to the states last year. Got introduced to each other at a birthday party.” 

He hears her words but he’s staring at a photo. The two of them are on a date, sitting in an outdoor patio. Lorena is smiling at the man, that small little upturn on her lips. He knows that look well, he’s been on the receiving end of it enough times. 

“You going to be okay?” Christopher’s voice is strangely soft and almost motherly. He’s heard it before, but never directed at himself. 

“I’m happy for her,” he says as he looks up. “It’s been… five years now. She looks happy, she deserves to be happy. That was the whole point of all this, right?” 

“That’s an awful lot of uses of the word happy.” 

_**I still love Lorena, but loving someone and being in love with them are two different things.** _

_**I struggled to let her go, but I knew I had to. And as I looked at the photos, I realized I felt no anger or jealousy. I was simply glad and relieved that she found someone else who could make her feel loved and special and cared for.** _

_**And I hated myself for it.**_

“We got wounded!” Wyatt yelled as the Lifeboat hatch opened, the ladder being rolled in front. 

“Mira!” Jiya shouts but Flynn barely hears it as his head is swimming in pain. 

Lucy exits the Lifeboat first, so Wyatt has room to maneuver Flynn, pulling him onto the stepladder. Wyatt struggles, watching their feet, as Flynn’s tall frame doesn’t make things easy on the shorter man. But they manage to make it to the ground without Wyatt throwing him down the stairs. 

“What do we have?” Mira asks, pulling on her gloves and tugging at the bloody Union soldier uniform. 

“Flynn’s been stabbed,” Lucy tells her, “by a Confederate bayonet.” 

“Let’s get him to the med room, now,” she orders. 

Rufus takes Flynn’s other side and they haul him to the room and flop him onto the medical bed. They try to be gentle but it’s just not working out for anyone. Flynn is groaning in pain, he’s never hurt this bad after an injury. So much fire coursing throughout his abdomen. 

“What happened, exactly?” Mira asks as she cuts away his uniform. 

“Rittenhouse was trying to keep the _USS Monitor_ from being launched during the Battle of Hampton Roads,” Lucy says in a rush. “They led some Confederate spies to try to blow it up in dock. We stopped them, but Flynn was stabbed.” 

“How long ago was this?” she asked. 

“Maybe five... six hours ago. He was doing fine, the bleeding stopped, but a few minutes ago he… he just collapsed.” 

“It’s Salem all over again,” Mira mumbled, going to the cabinet for supplies. “Everyone, except Jiya, out. You’re going to assist on your first major surgery.” 

“Oh, yay,” Jiya says with mixed enthusiasm as she goes and scrubs up. 

Flynn hears all of this, but the burning is becoming too much. 

“I’ll give you something for the pain,” Mira tells him. “I’m going to have to get into that wound and clean it out. I’ll also give you a shit ton of the good stuff to attack the germs causing a nasty infection. It’s going to be hell for a bit, but you’ll get through this.” 

“Like it matters,” he manages to mutter. “Even if I die today, I’ll be back eventually.” 

“Don’t think like that,” she says harshly. “Don’t you ever fucking think like that.” 

He’s sure he has a reply, but he’d rather just take a nap. 

Eventually Flynn wakes up to beeping in his ears and tubes pumping things into him. He sees Lucy sitting in a chair next to the bed, reading a book. 

She glances at him when she senses movement and quickly puts the book away, standing up. “Flynn, are you okay? How are you feeling?” 

His throat is dry, he’s tired, but his chest is no longer on fire. 

“Jiya and I swapped shifts,” Rufus says as he enters. “I can’t sleep anyway and—” 

“Flynn’s awake,” Lucy cuts him off. “Go wake up Mira.” 

“On it,” he says and disappears. 

He wants to tell them not to bother, he going to pass out again anyway. 

The next time he wakes up, Mira is there, her back to him as she fiddles with stuff on the counter. He feels a million times better, not as tired, but his throat is definitely parched. 

“Mira,” he tries to say but it’s all scratchy. 

She turns and there is relief in her eyes. She gets him a cup of water and lets him drink first before asking him questions, making sure he’s recovering. 

“You’re upset with me,” Flynn says when it becomes obvious to him. 

“Yes,” she says matter of fact, almost as if she was answering a basic medical question. 

“I didn’t mean to get stabbed,” he tells her. “I actively tried to avoid it.” 

“I know,” her voice is still neutral. “I was given the play by play of what happened.” 

Flynn frowns. “Then what’s wrong?” 

She leaned forward and locked her eyes with his. “You say your life doesn’t matter again, and I will end it myself.” 

The memory of what he said drifts back to him. He lets out a tired laugh. “It’s true though. I have a year left, maybe a year and a half?” 

“And just what do you think your other self would say?” Emotion started to seep in, a kind of cold anger. “What would he say if he walked off the Lifeboat and discovered he’d been dead for a year because you thought your life, _his life_ , didn’t matter?” 

“I…” he doesn’t have a good answer for that. 

_**I kept trying to crawl inside some kind of pit of despair, but Mira kept dragging me out. I should have seen it for what it was. It was obvious to everyone.** _

_**But I am an idiot, you knew that already.**_

“No signs of infection,” she says days later as she’s removing his stitches. “Finish out your round of antibiotics and don’t get stabbed again.” 

“I won’t,” Flynn replies, trying to be light. “I promise.” 

“Good,” the word comes out weird, like it was heavy and twisted. She’s removed the last stitch, quickly cleaning and redressing the wound. “You can get dressed now.” 

Flynn slides his shirt on as Mira takes off her gloves and tosses them. She starts to put her supplies away and he sits there, watching her. Eventually she realizes this. “Oh, you can go. I’m done with you.” 

“Mira,” he says her name as if he’s not allowed. “I don’t want to fight with you. I want us to be friends again.” 

It’s a few seconds before she says, “What does it matter? You’re just going to be overwritten. Both of us.” 

“It does... matter,” he replies quietly. “It didn’t feel that way for a long time, but it does now.” 

She’s listening, but doesn’t look directly at him. “Why?” 

“Because I... matter. You matter. All of this... it matters...” he trails off, unable to voice his abstract feelings in a way that would make sense. “Anyway. You’re my friend. When I step off of the Lifeboat, I’d want to know I spent my days with my friends, with people I care about.” 

Mira finally looks at him, a subdued smile on her face. “I’m glad you finally understand that.” 

“Yeah,” he slips from the medical bed. “It took me awhile, but I got there.” 

“I knew you would,” she says softly. “And I never stopped being your friend. I never will.” 

“Thank you,” he smiles, warmth spreading through him. There is so many things he wants to say, but he’s not sure any of them will be welcomed. “Well, at least now you don’t have to worry about me anymore.” 

“I do... worry about you,” she speaks in such an odd and emotional tone that he knows they’re talking about two different things. Realizing what she said, she looks down and away as if that will take it back. 

“Mira?” 

“I...” her shoulders slump, she becomes resigned. “I suppose you should know. We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.” She clears her throat and looks at him. “I joined the team because I wanted to help stop Rittenhouse. But after that first trip back in time, I wanted to run, but I stayed... because of you.” 

“Because of me?” he’s not even sure he fully vocalizes the words. 

“I’ve always been good, alone, but Brian, he made me not want to be alone...” 

The room goes quiet, so he asks, “What are you trying to say?” 

“You make me not want to be alone.” Mira looks frightened by her own words, like she’s made a grave mistake in speaking them. 

Flynn knows he’s not helping matters either, staring dumbly at her as he processes everything. He’s known he was in love with her, it just never occurred to him that she could ever love him back. If that _is_ what she’s saying. Is he even reading this right? 

She starts to inch away, like she’s going to bolt through the door. 

“Wait,” he says to stop her, reaching out but she’s too far even for his long grasp. 

“It’s okay,” she says quickly, her voice an abnormally high pitch as she screeches to a halt. “I... just... forget I said anything.” 

“Forget?” Flynn takes a step forward. “I’m going to forget a lot of things, but if you’re saying what I think you’re saying... that’s something I never want to forget.” 

Neither are sure what happened next, who moved where, but they are kissing each other as if they’re the only tangible things on this Earth. She fits against him, giving as good as he was giving her. But he needs her closer, so he spins them, grabbing her around the waist and sitting her on the medical bed. There is a twinge of pain where his stab wound is, but it’s drowned out by the glorious feeling of settling between her legs even as they are both fully clothed. 

Neither of them remembered the door was left ajar. 

“Hey, Mira,” Rufus says as he starts to open the door. “Lucy’s found something, team meeeeeeeeeeee...” 

Flynn grabs the nearest solid object he can, an unopened ACE bandage that Mira didn’t end up using. Not a lot of weight to the rolled fabric, but it got his point across as he half-blindly threw it at the other man. Rufus stumbled back, catching it, but hitting the door frame. 

“You know what, we’ll fill you in later,” he says as he grabs the door, an audible click being heard. “I’m just gonna lock the door here for you so you don’t get disturbed.” 

It takes them a moment to process what is happening. Between Mira’s hands running up under Flynn's shirt and him kissing down her neck, there is no room to think. Shuddering to a stop, they’re short of breath as they look each other in the eyes. There is little doubt what is going to happen next... but still... 

“I don’t know exactly how much time we have left,” he says, his voice raw, giving her an out. 

“We’re at war,” she whispers against his lips. “I could lose you tomorrow. I’m not wasting another moment.” 

As thoughtful as it was for Rufus to lock the door for them, sex on a medical bed is not as glamorous as it sounds. Mira knows this from experience. So they sneak out, into Mira’s room as it was closer. They could hear the team talking, something about Rittenhouse, but they would get the details later. After an appropriate Walk of Shame. 

Right now, it was about them, about finally reaching out and taking not just what they wanted, but what they needed. 

Mira was curled into his side, her head laying on his shoulder. “Do you think we got together... future us, I mean.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits after thinking about it. “In a world where my family was murdered, I imagine I... I’m a much darker person.” 

“There isn’t as much darkness in you as you think there is,” she tells him softly. “That’s partly why I never said anything about how I feel.” She lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “There was the overwriting issue, but... I was sure you’d go back to your family, once you realized how good of a man you still are.” 

Flynn doesn’t know what to say to that, so he pulls her tighter and kisses the top of her head. When he finds his voice, he tells her, “I love Lorena but I haven’t been _in love_ with her for... some time. It’ll have been six years when I come back. We won’t be the same people we were. We didn’t have a chance to grow together. She found love with someone else, someone she can share her new life with... and I fell in love with you. I want to share my new life with you.” 

“You should still go back to them.” Mira propped herself up so she could look at him. “You can’t tell me you love your daughter any less. You could still be her father.” 

There is nothing more that he wants, and tears glisten in his eyes. “It’s not my choice to make... unless you’re suggesting we go back?” 

"We have to stop Rittenhouse,” she admits, not looking away. “Even if that means I lose you.” 

He reaches up and touches her cheek, just as her future self did to him. “Then what do we do?” 

Mira leans into his touch. “We make use of the time we have left.” 

_**Turns out we missed a very important meeting, the one I had been waiting for this whole time. I can only imagine you defeated Rittenhouse the same way we did. Lucy found their Achilles’ Heel, one which I have a sneaking suspicion Lucy put there herself, in a different lifetime.** _

_**But we did it, we won.** _

_**And that’s where we are.** _

_**Maybe you fell in love with Mira? Maybe you and Lucy worked out after all? Maybe you plan to try to be with Lorena again? Maybe you found a happier ending some other way? And if that’s the case, well, I guess you don’t have to explain it to Mira, she already knows.** _

_**Regardless, never lose her as a friend.** _

_**And remember… if everything has fallen apart, if you feel like you’re alone and that your fate is to be miserable, that this is what you deserve, I want you to know you are wrong.** _

_**You are not alone, Garcia Flynn.** _

_**You are never alone.**_

Flynn reads through the letter again as he waits. He's pretty much memorized by this point. It had been waiting for him in his room, under the pillow, the words _In Case Today is the Day_ scrawled across the envelope in Croatian. 

He wasn’t sure if his past self would go back so that they wouldn’t be overwritten. They couldn’t risk Rittenhouse winning, but he also didn’t want to live with the memories of his wife and child being murdered. But that’s the price he pays for completing every task he set for himself. 

Defeat Rittenhouse. 

Save his wife and daughter. 

Find love again. 

“You ready?” a soft voice asks him. 

Flynn glances up to see Mira with that subdued smile on her face. She’s so very happy for him, but there is too much weight in the moment for joviality. 

“I’m ready,” he replies, folding up the letter and sliding it back into the envelope. “Can you hold on to this for me?” 

“Of course.” Mira takes the envelope, then leans in to kiss him lightly on the corner of the mouth. “You deserve this, remember that.” 

He wants to believe she’s right, but the years have left him a broken man. The deaths of his wife and daughter had been his fault, bringing them back didn’t change that. He let himself get wrapped up in something that wasn’t real, his heart torn and abused by Lucy. Then in an instant, he both gained and lost a relationship with the one person he needed the most. 

But they found each other again... it seemed that while the journal said Lucy would always love Wyatt, it neglected to tell him he would always love Mira. 

“You can do this,” she squeezes his hand. “You’ve changed, but you’re still Garcia Flynn.” 

All he can do is nod. 

Taking a deep breath, he reminds himself he’s been to war and back. He's been in far dicer situations than this. Hell, he stole a time machine, stopped a time traveling cult, and brought people back to life. 

This didn’t help make what he was about to do any easier. 

Flynn walked out of the side room just off the church nave. The place was empty, that’s what happens when you have Homeland Security going to bat for you. He picked a church because he knew it would make her feel more comfortable, safe. 

The woman is standing towards the dais, looking up at a cross hanging from the ceiling. He’d seen pictures of her, of course, but that was nothing compared to being just mere feet away from her. 

“Lorena,” he says the word like he’s not allowed to. 

She turns her head and sees him, her face wearing an expression of shock and relief wrapped in a blanket of happy sadness. “Garcia.” 

Lorena moves forward and they meet somewhere in the middle. She wraps her arms around him and squeezes him with all her might. He returns the hug so tightly he’s afraid he’ll break her but he can’t stop himself. Six years he had been fighting for this moment. And here she was, alive, smelling of lavender and vetiver. 

At least some things stayed the same. 

Eventually she pulls back, searching his eyes, seeing how he’s changed, but not recoiling from it. Her own eyes telling a story of the things that have changed in her. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says. 

“Yes.” She clears her throat and moves to one of the pews. “You need to tell me where you’ve been.” 

“I can’t tell you,” he admits as he sets down. “I want to, but I can’t get the government to sign off on it.” 

“That explains all the Homeland agents,” she replies with a nod, clearly not happy but accepting the situation, for now. “But it must have been _really_ important, because I know you. Nothing less than saving the world would keep you away from your daughter that long.” 

“You do know me well.” Flynn smiles at her, something soft and sentimental. He was saving the world, _his world_ , his girls. “But it’s done now. I stopped some very bad people from doing some truly horrible things.” 

He can see her clever mind working, piecing things together. Not all of Rittenhouse’s dealings were made public, but when a handful of US Senators and Representatives get arrested, it makes the news. 

“Then I’m proud of you.” Lorena takes his hand, gives it a little squeeze. 

He holds her hand as they sit there in silence, letting themselves adjust to the idea that yes, this is real, the other person is alive and well. 

She clears her throat again and sits up straighter. “So, you going to tell me why you wanted to meet me, alone, with Homeland agents standing guard outside?” 

Flynn takes a moment, Mira’s voice in his head telling him it will be okay, Lorena’s voice faintly echoing in the background. “I know about you and Fredrick, and I’m happy for you, I truly am.” 

“You never came back, and we never heard from you.” Lorena looked like she was sorry but not ashamed. “I thought you were dead, because you’d never leave Iris for that long.” She wiped at some burgeoning tears. “I didn’t even realize I’d... moved on... until I met Freddy.” 

“I wasn’t sure I would make it back,” or ever bring them back. “I’m so sorry for the pain I put you through.” 

“Some things can’t be helped,” there was so much sadness in her voice, but no anger. 

“I still care about you. I want you to be happy.” Now comes the hardest part. “I know we’re done and through, but Iris... I want to be in her life again, if you’ll let me.” 

Lorena blinks, and frowns. “Why wouldn’t I let you?” 

“I’ve had to do some horrible things over the past six years, all in the name of stopping people far worse,” he admits, and it actually makes him feel better to do so. “I didn’t want to risk upsetting Iris, making her homelife unstable, which is why I came to you first.” 

“To get my permission?” 

“Yes.” 

“And if I say no,” she asks neutrally, “you’ll just disappear again? Like today never happened?” 

He nods. “If that is what you want.” 

Lorena lets out a short laugh. “Still overly dramatic, I see.” She reaches forward and pulls him into another hug. “Iris misses you, she never gave up on you, like hell I’m going to let you walk away from her again.” 

_I am allowed this,_ he tells himself, thinking about Iris, about getting to hold her again. 

“Are you allowed to go out unsupervised?” Lorena asks as she pulls back. “Or are agents going to be following you everywhere now?” 

“I’m free,” he says, almost laughing, but sobers up. “I just needed to get you alone... in case...” 

She nods, understanding. “I think it would be best to talk to Iris first, let her know you’re coming back, but you won’t be living with us. Why don’t you come by the house tomorrow morning, say, ten o’clock? I’ll ask Freddy to go hang out with his brother, or something.” 

“I don’t want to get between you two,” he says quickly, earnestly. He’s seen the photos, the way she looks at the other man. She was in love with Freddy as she was once in love with him. 

Lorena raised a single brow. “Please, do you think I would ever be with someone who wouldn’t be understanding of this situation? Who was that insecure about our relationship?” 

Flynn opens his mouth and realizes she’s right, of course she is. When they were together, he never once felt worried or threatened when Lorena spent time with other men. There was no reason to be, he trusted her, still trusts her, just as he trusts Mira. 

He just can’t believe any of this is real. 

“Tomorrow will be about you and Iris,” she smiles like she’s been waiting to say those words. 

“Thank you,” the phrase doesn’t seem large enough to fit everything he wants to express. 

She takes his hand. “The day after, we’ll all sit down to dinner, all of us. I think you’d like Freddy.” 

He squeezes her hand back. “He makes you smile, what’s not to like?” 

“Still also the charmer I see,” she lightly laughs. “And bring them too, I want to meet them.” 

“Them?” 

“I know you far too well, Garcia.” Lorena reaches up with her other hand to touch his cheek. “You get so lost when you’re alone. But you’re not alone, you wouldn’t be here if you were. And I’d like to meet the woman, or man, who has your heart now.” She smiles warmly. “I have a feeling we'll get along.” 

Flynn doesn’t know what to say, his heart having been slowly stitched back together over the past year. Now it feels lighter than air, like it will pull him to the rafters, trying to escape into the stars. 

“Tell me again, about Pandora’s Jar,” he asks her. 

“Well... blatant sexism aside, it is a parable,” she starts, getting comfortable on the pew next to him. “Pandora opens the jar and lets out all the evils into the world. She closes it just in time to keep hope in. But that seems counter-productive, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t you want hope out there, battling all the evils?” 

“It’s not hope’s job to combat evil,” Flynn says. 

“No, it’s not. That’s our responsibility.” Lorena smiles at him. “As for hope, when you find it, you grab it, you shove it in a box, you lock it down...” 

“...and you never let go.” 

_**You are allowed to be loved.** _

_**You are never alone.** _

_**Never give up hope.** _

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is the end, for real this time. 
> 
> Three timelines. Three stories. Three chances to fall in love.
> 
> Thank you for reading. <3


End file.
